Recalling the Past
by fool-kitty
Summary: As Desmond retells the story in his own words, Altaïr contemplates on his past while Ezio tries to suppress his.


A/N: I wrote this over the span of a couple of months. This little prompt filled my mind as I waited for Brotherhood to come out, but then I realized I forgot to publish it. (silly me.) Spoilers for AC1 all the way to the end, but vague spoilers for the beginning of AC 2. If you seriously haven't played either, then what the hell are you reading fanfiction for? -_-

Anyways, ENJOY. :]

* * *

Desmond Miles. A name that I doubt could really do anything at all. I'm pretty sure that most people will be like, "Who the hell is that?" or the more viable option, "I don't care who that is." Yeah, the name Desmond Miles defines my character as mostly ambiguous to the rest of the ignorant population out there.

And I'm happy with that.

Ambiguity has always been a pleasure to have, whether it be at a store, amongst the large crowd of the city, or a big banging party full of explicit scenes like drinking, flashing lights, dirty dancing-

Ha, I got you. I don't really go to parties often, so I can't really speculate just how much goes on.

The point is the name Desmond Miles doesn't strike fear into anyone or makes a person have a sign of recognition –except for those I work with, they would probably be like 'hey I know him, he's that jerk bartender who kicked me out of the bar!'- And again, that's fine. Being the way I am, it's…difficult to place in words just how I feel on the topic. My name doesn't scare the living hell out of people, but what it does is leave a small, but very dangerous trail behind every action I do and eventually, it screws me over.

Like now.

"Good morning Mr. Miles."

I could easily tell who that was based on the tone, the slightly monotone sound, and the overall stick in the ass voi-

Gotta be nice to someone who has your life in their hand. Nice. NICE. **NICE**.

"Well, are you going to loiter around all day? Come on, make yourself useful for once!"

That's it. I'm gonna run up behind him and…

And…pickpocket?

Damn it. Times like these, I wish I had the training of a master assassin. That would be epic. It would be easy to just grab him from behind and suddenly, a hidden blade impales his jugular artery. Oops, sorry, that was on COMPLETE accident. Although I don't think I'd particularly enjoy the missing ring finger. Something tells me that conveniently placed blade had something to do with it. Definitely.

"Well, Mr. Miles, we're just going to daydream the time away, aren't we?"

I jumped back slightly due to the overbearing face of a certain wrinkly and overall frightening person staring directly at me. I mean, two inches RIGHT. IN. YOUR. FACE.

Once in a lifetime moment there.

"Gee, doc, give me some time here. I JUST woke up." Yes, that was a good enough response to the man.

He stood back up in his prideful manner and I took a breath of relief. Then I suddenly and mysteriously, I might add, stood up and saw myself heading out the door to the bright and sterile room with the Animus loading up its files.

"Up, up, let's go!"

I then learned two things in that short time. One: the doc is actually quite strong. Strange, I know, right? And two: it's easier to just get up. That way, you don't have to feel the stinging embarrassment of an old man being able to push you from the bed to the door and beyond. I can barely do a set of ten pushups without collapsing on 5.

Pathetic.

"Vidic, what exactly are you doing to Desmond?" Ah, a voice that I have come to love in the place called Abstergo. To be honest, I have never heard of Abstergo before. It's a miracle that I even retained enough information (more like rifling through emails, but hey who cares?) to piece this much together.

Abstergo is a fucked up company with the Templars playing puppet master with the world.

But back to the point.

That voice is a savior to me in the stark white room that has come to be my little bubble of a world for the past couple of days now. That wonderful voice belongs to the woman named Lucy Stillman, who hasn't threatened or hurt me yet. Astonishing, considering the less than courteous welcome I received when I first woke up. I shivered involuntarily at the memory, which brought a concerned stare from Lucy just now.

When I hear it, I just KNOW she cares about my well being.

Vidic's breath made the hair on the back of my neck rise as he spoke, which…honestly sounds wrong.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Ms. Stillman? I'm trying to get this morning started." He then stopped pushing me, strolled over to his little sleek desk, and proceeded to drink coffee out of his clean little white mug as if he didn't just shatter the fragments of my dignity. The jerk.

"Well, we should slow down our study for the day," Lucy argued as she continued typing away on the computer at the base of the glowing machine.

"He was in the Animus for about six hours, and that is dangerously pushing it to the limits. We don't want to damage his psyche anymore than we need to."

I'm pretty sure the implied meaning was: _You don't want another subject 16 to occur. _Whoever he or she was, I commend them. Why?

That managed to make Vidic grumble, bitch, and complain about the little work we'd done and something about a deadline. THEN he put his mug done and said that I was able to rest for a sparse ten minutes between every two hours. For that, I give them a thumbs up for being able to get the old doc to actually ease up slightly.

But he's still a old geezer with a stick in the ass. Definitely.

* * *

~1171~

I sprinted down the sand-covered streets of Jerusalem, kicking up dust as I tried to avoid being captured by the guards. Normally, these men would have met the end of their lives through my blade, but today is not one of those days. The streets do not have to bear witness to the deaths of these men.

The guards struggle to keep up and I find the perfect opportunity to escape. I take the sharp turn into the corner and begin a rapid ascent to the roof before the guards saw. When my feet touched the level ground of the roof, I immediately dashed towards the garden, concealing myself entirely. After a few minutes, I heard the grumbling of the two guards before their echoing footsteps slowly faded away into the crowd on the main street.

I climbed out of the small hiding spot and leapt across buildings to reach the Guild. I have yet to finish the assignments Al Mualim assigned me to finish.

"Ah, if it isn't the man of the day. Tell me, Al-Tair, how many times do you have to announce your presence to the guards before you come here?" The condescending voice spoke at me with such hatred and anger.

I calmly addressed the man standing behind a desk filled with scattered sheets of paper. "Malik."

"So you recognize my name? Why couldn't you have done that for the Creed while we were at Solomon's Temple?" I sighed a bit before speaking of my next attempt to regain the honor I lost. Yet, the two men whose lives I have already ended claimed to have known more than me. They alluded to something of peace and that my life had already ended. The mysteries that they spoke of filled my mind and left me questioning my actions.

We rise with our blades to silence those who threaten peace and freedom. I have known this for years now, ever since the death of Adha. She left this world with the emotion that I have called love and now, I attempt to fill the void. However…

The life of an assassin has never seemed so unfulfilling.

* * *

~2012, 1 day later~

So me and Lucy just managed to bust OUT of Abstergo after finding out the map that Al-Tair found in the Apple. Just a side note, my head hurt like a bitch after that confrontation with Al Mualim. I mean, damn, the man just tried to mind rape me and he expects me to take it lying down?

Anyway, so as we're breaking out and Lucy breaks out all these fighting moves that put me to shame (I swear, this month is just one freaky incident after another), we're running past the security and I happen to notice these magical machines that look too much like the Animus.

"So is it Animuses…or Animi? Lucy?" I just had to ask to mask the inner thoughts of '_WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?'_ You know, the usual response.

After a quick scolding from Lucy, some fiddling with the keypad, and some more ass kicking, Lucy decides to do the safest thing for me: force me in a trunk. Needless to say, I kinda had some sort of reluctance towards that idea, but my smart ass still went inside.

As Lucy turned on the engine to the car, I suddenly felt…nauseous.

~Two hours later~

So I think that I'll ride in the back seat or something next time. You know, the more comfortable place in the car.

So far, I've banged my head against the roof of the trunk about three times now, swore countless number of times when Lucy sped up and made me roll back and forth, and possibly fell unconscious to the previously mentioned scenarios. I mean, I probably have a concussion or two now from that.

And along with that, the dimmed lights from the outside of the trunk is giving me a slight headache. I think. It could be the concussion, you never know.

The sudden squealing from the brakes threw me off, mentally and physically. As I tried to regain what little awareness I had left, the trunk opened. That SO did not help my headache/concussion. I covered my eyes and attempted to look up, only to see the woman who had attempted to 'save my life'.

My headache/concussion disagrees.

~15 minutes later~

After a brief recovery time, some walking up a flight of stairs, and an agreement to bring an end to the Templars, Lucy decided to introduce me to some important people. Granted, I just didn't expect meeting people under the circumstances of destroying an organization that attempted to rule the world under complete mind control, but hey. The world works in a peculiar way.

After meeting Rebecca and Shaun, I feel comforted to know that I'm surrounded by people I feel won't threaten me in any way.

Except Shaun. That guy probably is the equivalence of Vidic with the stick in his ass thing. His British accent totally makes him a dick, but that's just me.

As I laid down on the 'Animus 2.0',

"How does this work?" I had to ask. The other Animus…actually, I don't know how it worked. But it still did something. I saw a thin black object coming towards my right arm and suddenly, my nerves became all jittery. "You've got to be kidding."

Rebecca just gave me a smile and came closer with that thing. "Get ready…"

It stung like an injection, so naturally I reacted by saying 'ow'. Natural response, right? Not until I heard the accent begin to speak.

"Oh, what are you? A little child?"

My mouth became dry and my mind struggled to create a thought. Shit, the needle is a fast acting…anesthetic…

The world faded to black before I could retort back.

* * *

~Firenze, 1476~

If things had been different, I could have saved Federico, Petruccio, and Father. They wouldn't have had to suffer…neither would Mother…and Claudia…

"Ezio…are you alright?" The voice of the young Leonardo da Vinci spoke so softly, as if he was afraid of breaking something.

It seemed too late for that now.

My name is Ezio Auditore da Firenze, the second oldest son of Giovanni Auditore and Maria Auditore. The last one standing.

The only one capable of exacting revenge.

Could I have imagined such a drastic turn of events so soon? Was it possible for Father and my brothers to be saved from death? Claudia and Mother have been saved, but at what price? Mother has yet to speak a word and is locked with the confines of her own mind. Claudia persists with reminding me of how much she dislikes the Villa Auditore. And Leonardo…I'm not blind to the constant threats from the guards to turn in my whereabouts.

"Leonardo…have you deciphered the codex page yet?"

The man before me smiled and began rushing to his work table, babbling about how he needed to count every other letter to decipher the newest mystery before him. As he shuffled through the papers, I glanced around the workshop. Nostalgia pricked my thoughts as I imagined myself just a few weeks ago, running an errand for Mother as she teased me about my…womanizing ways.

I came from picking a box full of paintings to picking up a corpse a few days after.

I snapped out of my trance when Leonardo began prodding me with the parchment. I quickly thanked him and left the workshop before any more memories threatened to rise and give way to tears. I haven't shed a tear yet, only letting my rage fuel the motion of my life.

As I walked the streets of Firenze, a man brushed past my shoulders. As I glanced back to see who the man was, I saw an old gnarled tree in the middle of a plaza. The same tree where Federico teased me for not being able to follow him and where he indirectly taught me how to climb. A group of benches surrounded the lone tree, which led way to another memory of Petruccio holding his hands out, trying to catch a falling feather or cheering me on as I practiced to reach the top branch of th-

No. Stop. Any farther and…

"Assassino! Assassino!" The crowd dispersed with me in the middle, leaving me with no option but to run. I dashed down the streets, getting enough momentum to run up the walls, and began the climb to the roof.

The life I led now…has never seemed to be so out of place as now.


End file.
